


If Heaven is Just a Memory, Then What's the Point?

by endlesschaos



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Emotionally Hurt Sam Winchester, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Sam Winchester Needs a Hug, basically sam goes on a hunt and it goes wrong, just a lil bit of comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:15:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23942191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endlesschaos/pseuds/endlesschaos
Summary: Her name is Sarah and it reminds him of a girl he once saved and later lost. She walks around him like she knows she’s a memory. The first thing he noticed about her was her engagement ring, lacking a partner. She never brings it up like fiancée’s normally do. He knows not to ask.~AKA Sam goes on a hunt and it goes wrong.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	If Heaven is Just a Memory, Then What's the Point?

**Author's Note:**

> i don't know where this came from, i just started writing and didn't stop and now i have this. let me know what you think!

Sam meets a girl in some nowhere town outside of Kerrville, Texas. She’s another hunter and they’ve decided to team up to work on the case that brought him there. She’s quiet in a way that hints she’s done this before. She knows what happens to hunters and why you should never work with people you’re prone to get attached to. She’s not rude or short with her words, she just doesn’t want to give too much of herself.

Her name is Sarah and it reminds him of a girl he once saved and later lost. She walks around him like she knows she’s a memory. The first thing he noticed about her was her engagement ring, lacking a partner. She never brings it up like fiancée’s normally do. He knows not to ask.

It’s a simple ring, not cheap, but it reminds him of something Jess would like. Years before, when he was a student living his dream of normalcy, hoping to help people through the law rather than through violence, he looked for rings, hoping to find one that looked like Sarah’s. Jess was never the type to like diamonds, she was unique and wanted her ring to show the world that. Sam never heard her say it, but she didn’t have to. She liked silver and opal, maybe a little sparkle, but that wasn’t the point.

Sarah’s ring was rose gold and opal. Jess would’ve loved it. It wasn’t traditional, but neither was she. Sam supposed Sarah wasn’t either.

She caught him staring at it a few times, eyes daring him to ask. He always looked away before he let the question slip from his lips. He wanted to connect, but this was a hunt. They’d part ways after this, no point in connecting. If he were lucky enough, he’d get her number and he’d be able to hunt with her again. He wasn’t a very lucky person.

He’d shown up to the town a day after her, chasing a newspaper clipping claiming the third dead body that week, no leads, victims missing their heads. It wasn’t all that weird, but a missing head was a missing head. He’d initially thought it was another hunter taking out a nest of vamps, but hunters generally went for the entire nest at once, not spread out over a few days.

He’d walked into the sheriff’s office, Texas Ranger badge ready as proof.

“Big day,” the sheriff had said, “Feds are here, too.”

He was confused, but the sheriff couldn’t know that. He took one look at “Agent Emma Goldman’s” badge and knew she was a hunter. By the look on her face, she knew he was too.

She’d originally tried to tell him to leave, she could handle it. It took about five minutes for Sam to convince her a little back up never hurt. She wasn’t new to the game as far as he could tell, but her face showed relief anyway.

They agreed to meet at a diner to compare notes after they each found motels to stay at. She thought wraith who just didn’t care too much if the brain was attached to the rest of the body upon consumption. He was glad he’d ordered a salad. He thought ancient deity. They required weird sacrifices. Sarah found the article about the man, Collin Williams, who’d died a year beforehand in a car accident that cut his head clean off. He’d been hit by a drunk driver, who had gotten off without being charged with manslaughter. Malevolent spirit.

She agreed to go talk to his family, find out his connection with the victims, while Sam talked to the sheriff.

“Real tragedy,” the sheriff had said, mostly because it sounded like the thing you were supposed to say. “Apparently, he’d been fighting with some friends of his over a stupid bet, lost a lot of money. Never got it back, I guess. Randy, the driver who hit him, was never the same after that. Apparently, he’d been sober since the accident.”

“Randy… Morris? The first victim?” Sam asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah, Collin’s friends were the other two. Strange coincidence, huh?” The sheriff refilled his coffee and took a sip. “Ah, well, small town, everyone here’s connected somehow.”

Sam nodded and left the station. He hated small towns.

Sarah had apparently come to the same conclusion but had also managed to find out where Collin had been buried.

It was all set to be an easy salt and burn, but hunters never have it easy, do they? Sarah made Sam do the digging, more than willing to be a lookout. As soon as Sam got down far enough that he’d have to climb out of the grave, Collin decided to make an appearance.

“Keep digging, I got it,” Sarah shouted, already holding up her gun, rock salt bullets at the ready. So, he did. Whenever he thinks back to that night, he thinks that should’ve been the point they switched positions. It’s not a logical thought, but guilt wasn’t logical.

The ghost threw Sarah straight into a headstone, knocking her head into it first. She was a fighter, though, she shot at the ghost and stumbled back to the grave. Sam broke through the coffin and started pouring salt and gasoline.

“You okay?” He asked, trying to burn the bones before the spirit came back.

“Fine, don’t worry about me. Hurry.”

That should’ve been his second sign.

He managed to light the matches right as the ghost threw her again, this time cracking her neck against a headstone, breaking it. He dropped the matches into the grave and watched Collin burn up with it.

He heard Sarah groan and he ran over, trying to support her neck.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey. You’re gonna be fine. We just gotta get you to a hospital.”

She coughed a laugh, wincing immediately after.

“You move me, I die. You call an ambulance; we both get arrested. It’s okay. I’m okay,” she smiled up at him, tears in her eyes. “I’ve seen my fair share of angels; I know Heaven’s real. I’ll get to see Rebecca again.”

He looked down at her ring and smiled. He didn’t have the heart to tell her heaven was just a memory.

“Yeah, I’m sure she’s up there waiting for you. Tell her she’s a lucky girl.” She was dead before he finished speaking, teardrops sliding down both their cheeks. He closed her eyes and carried her to his car. He’d clean up the grave tomorrow, he told himself. He never returned.

When he got back to the bunker a few days later, he went straight to his room and didn’t leave for another three days. The first day, Dean left him alone. He didn’t know what happened, but he recognized a bad case when he saw one. The second day, he dropped off tomato soup, water, and a bottle of whiskey, just in case. Later that night, when he went to check again, only the whiskey had disappeared. The third day, Dean grabbed another bottle of whiskey and two glasses and walked straight into Sam’s room without a word. Sam didn’t move from his position on the bed until Dean pushed him over to make room. He turned on the tv, poured the whiskey for the both of them, and just sat there with him. Neither of them said a word, but that’s all Sam needed, until,

“You think Heaven can be more than memories?”

Dean didn’t know what that meant or where it came from, but he said, “Yeah, Sam, I do,” anyway.


End file.
